


want everyone to know (that I am half a soul divided)

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Bisexual Isabelle Lightwood, Bisexual Jace Wayland, Daylighter Simon Lewis, Downworlders, F/F, Femslash, Lesbian Character of Color, Lesbian Maia Roberts, M/M, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Politics, Racism, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: Some call it a blessing and some a curse. The Mark of the Chosen, as it is referred to in formal settings, is said to be bestowed by anything from a Greater Demon to an Oracle to the angel Raziel himself. No one quite knows, and no one can be quite sure.However it occurs, the same thing happens every seven years: a force marks a certain number of Shadowhunters and an exact same number of Downworlders who are fated to meet within the next cycle. Each pair- a Downworlder and a Shadowhunter- are destined to complete each other in every way.(One night, the Lightwood siblings wake up Marked with timers. Alec's is for a warlock, Izzy's is for a werewolf, and Jace's...well, his is just wrong.Across a city, a girl is Turned, a warlock seeks to help in any way he can, and a mundie slumbers on, unaware of what will happen to him.)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Taxi Cab" by twenty one pilots.

_ Some call it a blessing and some a curse. The Mark of the Chosen, as it is referred to in formal settings, is said to be bestowed by anything from a Greater Demon to an Oracle to the angel Raziel himself. No one quite knows, and no one can be quite sure. _

_ However it occurs, the same thing happens every seven years: a force marks a certain number of Shadowhunters and an exact same number of Downworlders who are fated to meet within the next cycle. Each pair- a Downworlder and a Shadowhunter- are destined to complete each other in every way. _

_ The Mark manifests differently for each of the five races. _

_ Lilith’s Children- Warlocks, as they're more commonly known- who are Chosen will find half of their warlock Mark transform to match their soulmate’s. A warlock mark on the eyes, for example, will end with one eye changed to the same color and shape as the Shadowhunter’s. A pair of horns will lead to one fading away into skin and hair the same shade as the Shadowhunter's. _

_ Werewolves who are Chosen will find the characteristic glowing green eyes of a Turn will shift colors into a color corresponding to the area in which their Soulmate lives. Red for near a city, blue for beach, brown for forest, gold for Idris, purple for the mountains, white for tundra, and orange for desert. _

_ Night Children- Vampires- will find themselves able to walk in the sunlight. A term has been given to the rare few over the years that have gained this ability: Daylighter. _

_ Fair Folk- Seelies- will find a faint glimmer hovering in the skin, faint marks of gold positioned in the place that holds their Soulmate's greatest skill. One with a soulmate that is a diplomat or leader will have a glimmer on their brow while one who is an Archer will have marks along their eyes and fingers. _

_ Nephilim- Shadowhunters- will find themselves with a new rune along the wrist. This, however, is a special rune that can change. It is a timer counting down to the moment they meet their soulmate, and it glows a certain color according to the race of their soulmate. Warlocks are purple, Werewolves green, Seelies blue, and Vampires red. _

_ Many think that the pairings entail good luck and fortune in love, but there are many who do not. There are some who toss around the common term for a Chosen-  _ cymar- _ like an insult. People like this see the  _ cymar  _ bond as something dirty, the so-called “tainting of species” as undesirable. This distinction often falls on the Nephilim, who believe themselves above Downworlders due to the demonic taint of their powers. _

_ But there are far many more who believe that the Marks represent greatness. _


	2. stranded together, our worlds have collided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Beautiful Now" by ZEDD ft. Jon Bellion.

Izzy ran into Alec’s room, the words _werewolf, I have a werewolf mark, I'm a chosen_ on the tip of her tongue, but as soon as she spots him the words die a hasty death. Alec perches on the side of his bed, head in his hands, gleaming purple writing peeking past the end of the sleeve of his pajama shirt.

“ _Dios_ ,” Izzy gasps, and Alec's head snaps up. His mouth opens as if he has something to say but his mouth snaps shut at her next words. “You too?”

“Too?” He asks, tone uncharacteristically confused, and she holds out her wrist. The timer, the year-and-a-half count, glows a soft dark green.

“Werewolf,” she says out loud, and a shiver of anticipation runs up her spine. Her parents will disapprove, of course, but the fact that she has a chosen _cymar,_  a chance at true love, out there is incredibly exciting.

“Warlock,” Alec mutters, and she can't tell if he's disappointed or excited. Scared, mostly, if she wants to admit it to herself. He swallows, then starts: “I don't-”

Alec winces out of nowhere and Izzy frowns. “You okay, _hermano_?”

“It's... it's Jace,” he mumbles, “I just got hit with a tidal wave of sadness.” He jumps up from the bed as if shocked. “We have to go see him, tell him about this. And find out what's wrong, you know.”

“Right,” she says, and they head off.

 

This is the first time that Alec's seen Jace do anything other than smirk, much less sob into his hands.

“Jace,” he asks, “You okay?”

“No,” he chokes out, voice shattered, “I'm broken. I knew I was before but this just proves it.”

Izzy runs over to Jace and slides onto the bed next to him. She places a hand on his knee, trying not to wince when he flinches away from her. “You're not broken, Jace,” she says in as firm a voice as she can, “How could you possibly think that?”

Jace sticks out his arm and she and Alec see one of the strangest sights they've ever witnessed (and they're Shadowhunters- that's saying a lot): two timers, one black and one vampire red. A quick calculation tells Izzy that the black timer counts to a point nearly a year ahead, while the red one is just a few days after that.

“Oh,” she says, shocked, and Jace nods miserably.

“Yeah,” he says, tone resigned, “Broken. Wrong. Just like I said.”

“That's not wrong,” Alec says, tone firm and unyielding. Izzy and Jace look up to find him rolling back his shirtsleeve, exposing the purple mark to Jace. “See, I've got one too.” He jerks his head towards Izzy, who gets what he's trying to do and immediately offers out her own marked wrist to Jace. “Izzy as well. I don't care what Mom says about Downworlders- we can't _all_ be wrong. We can't all have fucked up that badly.” Then Alec smiles, a small, intimate thing that Izzy's never seen before. “And think about it- we're destined to meet our soulmates, our _cymar,_  our perfect other halves. That's kinda beautiful.”

Jace shakes his head jerkily. “That's not all of it,” he says, “It's that I have two marks. And one of them’s black!”

“That _is_ a bit different,” Izzy has to concede, “But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Maybe the black one will shift colors, or maybe they're for the same person, and you'll just somehow meet them twice, or maybe you have _two_ cymar. There are a _lot_ of possible explanations for this."

Jace swallows. "You sure?"

Alec nods. "We have to be."

Jace stares at Alec for a moment, their _parabatai_ bond pulsing evenly, and nods. "Okay," he says, "I'll try to be okay."

-

Magnus lies awake, staring at the mirror facing his bed. Every seven years for the past few centuries he's waited for the Moment to pass. At first it was out of a sense of hope, an _it could be me,_  but over the course of the past century (after Camille ripped out his heart and treated it like no more than a soiled rag) it's become more a sense of duty than anything else. He's waiting not for himself, not anymore, but for the prick of magic that tells him if one of his darling little Downworlders gets Chosen as a _cymar_. It's been a few cycles since the last time a Brooklyner has been chosen, and it had been completely hilarious when _Meliorn_ of all people got paired with some Shadowhunter from Beijing. No one ever could have predicted that the Seelie, famous for his rather free sexual behavior and distaste of all things Shadowhunter, would be paired with the Beijing Institute's greatest dual-blader.

He feels the witching hour pass, and he slowly, carefully, dispels the glamour over his Mark.

 _Another cycle_ , he thinks, opening his eyes, another passing probably without a chosen...

Magnus looks into the mirror and, for the first time in decades, is rendered completely thoughtless from shock. One eye is the same as always, cat eye glowing green-gold, but the other is a warm hazel, completely human.

 _Completely Nephilim_ , a voice in his head corrects, and he swallows back nausea.

Him, a Chosen? That can't be right. His heart has been closed off for years, ever since Camille took his love and trampled all over it. He never expected to fall in love again, much less have the _soulmate,_ who will be the love of his life.

Then, suddenly, his wards spark. Another _cymar,_  close to him, down near Luke…

A werewolf. She's in danger. She _is_ danger. She's out of control. She can't breathe. She can't control control _control it_ -

_I can help her._

Magnus portals out of his flat in an instant. There's a Downworlder in trouble, a girl who has just become _cymar_ like him. She's lost, her signature betraying her newness to the Downworld, and he has to help.

-

Simon Lewis turns over in his bed, letting out a snore. The evidence of his _cymar_ destiny will not fully manifest for another year, but fate doesn't let those Chosen pass by without some sort of Mark for people to see.

In the morning, Simon will wake up with a white scar on his wrist that he'll never quite remember the origin of.


	3. you might have to excuse me (I've lost control of all my senses)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Good Grief" by Bastille.

The first timer to go off is Jace's black one. He's killing a demon, steadily ignoring his timers as he has for the past year or so, when a girl screams and Jace glances over. He, Alec, and Izzy are all under glamour so none of the mundies should be able to see them. Such a strange thing to happen, one that they’ll have to investigate, ‘cause that shouldn’t be happening-

Then he locks eyes with the boy in glasses next to her for just a moment and he feels his wrist vibrate.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, pulling up his sleeve, _that can’t be._

The boy doesn't flinch at the sound, though. He turns away to talk to the girl and Jace realizes with a sinking stomach that the boy doesn't see him.

_Mundane._

_A mundane. A fucking_ mundie.

_What. The. Fuck._

A hand drops onto his shoulder and he looks up to see Alec, mark glowing gently under the strobe lights. His expression is stoic, as usual, but there's the slightest undercurrent of concern running through the _parabatai_ bond. “That's a mundie, Jace,” he says, and Jace nods.

“That can't be right,” Izzy says, and Jace looks over to find her coiling up her whip, a pensive look on her face.

He swallows. “It has to be.” He turns to see the girl gesturing at Jace. _She’s_ obviously not a mundane, but from the boy’s bewildered stare it’s obvious that he is. “I-I’ve got to talk to him.”

Alec’s tone is apologetic when he speaks. “You can’t drop your rune, Jace. Not in such a crowded place.”

“I’ll run out into the alley,” Jace says, jerking his shoulder out of Alec’s grasp. “Turn off the glamour. Come back, introduce myself to the mundie and that girl who can somehow see us.”

Alec swallows. “You sure, Jace?” Jace nods, and for once Alec stops arguing with him. “Okay, fine. Izzy and I will cover your back. Just..be careful, okay?”

Jace nods again and runs.

  


_("...A process that can also kill you, so there's that."_

_Simon snarks, "Your bedside manner is abysmal."_

_Jace is simultaneously frustrated and entranced. Simon Lewis is annoying, but he can't help but stare._

_(And this kills him.))_

 

_(Simon snarls at him. "You don't get to talk to me, Captain America."_

_So amazing. So strong._

_(So fragile. So mundane. So human.)_

You are the other half of me, Simon. But I don't understand it. I don't know if I ever will.)

 

He comes back, glamour down, and he meets Clary and Simon. Clary is bright (sometimes too bright, too naive, too reckless), her personality as fiery as her hair, and Simon...well, Simon is annoying, and snarky, and, well, _everything._

Life gets hectic from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best, but eh.


	4. the stars choose their lovers, save my soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "The Other Side" by Ruelle.
> 
> To all those who requested a longer chapter.

Magnus Bane has spent the last year helping, comforting, and eventually hanging out with Maia Roberts.

Her (now ex) boyfriend attacking her was terrible. Being under the influence of being a Newly Turned was no excuse. If Maia hadn't told him coldly not to hurt Jordan, told the newly appeared Warlock that Jordan wasn't worth whatever he was prepared to throw, Magnus would have metted out every possible punishment for breaking the Accords.

He expects to maybe have to save Maia, to have to help her off her feet, but that doesn't happen. She saves herself, and Magnus mostly just fulfills the role of comforting friend, of shoulder to cry on. Maia Roberts is stronger than anyone has ever given her credit for.

Magnus likes Maia. She has a snarky personality and is also a complete nerd. They can talk about the original Star Trek and the _Princess Bride_ in equal enthusiasm with Impressionist paintings and the practical use of magic. She's a breath of fresh air in the drudgery of life he's been living since Camille.

(Through being friends, they help each other heal. This means something precious, something important to the two of them.)

She ends up spending about half of her nights here at his loft and half at the bar. 

"Tonight a Pandemonium night?" Maia asks, soaring her way through Super Mario Bros as Magnus touches up his makeup.

Magnus finishes the last swipe of eyeshadow before nodding. "Feeling like a party. And, you know, it's Friday. I have a few business issues to attend to."

"Who knows," Maia jokes, "You may even meet your  _cymar_."

Magnus rolls his eyes. "In Pandemonium? A Shadowhunter? Unless they're catching demons in the back, they should have no cause to be there."

Maia smirks as she wins the level and sets down the video game controller.. "You never know, Bane." She stretches and grabs her jacket. "If you're going out, so am I. Might as well head down to Hunter's Moon, see if Luke needs any help." She grabs her jacket from the back of the couch as she stands up.

"Have fun,  _saudura_ ," Magnus says.

"You know I always do," Maia says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Nonetheless she still gives him a brief side hug before leaving the flat. "Give Rafael my love!" She shouts as she exits the flat, and Magnus rolls his eyes. The werewolf and Rafael have a love-hate friendship in which barbs are thrown as signs of affection. It's nice to see the two Downworlders he's essentially adopted as his younger siblings having a decent enough relationship.

He swipes on the last bit of eyeshadow. Alright, then, time to go.

He sighs. He almost wants to go to Hunter's Moon or the Hotel DuMort, hang out with Maia or Rafael where there's a chance of excitement, but he has work to do. Tonight will be boring, but it's necessary.

Off to the races.

-

Clary Fray and Simon Lewis are both teeth-grindingly annoying, though for rather different reasons. Clary Fray for her tendency to assume that _her_ way is the right way, despite what people with more experience say, and Simon Lewis for his babbling and the way he’s unknowingly breaking Alec’s brother’s heart.

(Also, the fact that Clary Fray seems intent on dragging the Lightwood siblings and Jace’s possible- _cymar_ into danger and breaking _every single rule_ along the way. If he didn’t know better, Alec would guess that she’s _trying_ to get them in trouble.)

Alec's on lookout, watching over Jace, Izzy, Jace's possible- _cymar_ , and the girl. Alec knows that any moment now he'll meet his _cymar_ but he's pushing that fact to the back of his mind. What's important now is getting the information from the High Warlock and protecting his siblings (well, and probably that Simon guy too as he's maybe- _cymar_ and all, and Alec guesses he'll have to throw in the girl as it looks like she'll have info on Valentine).

The High Warlock and the girl are talking. It looks like the High Warlock is trying to get her to come with him, his hand grazing her wrist and face turned towards her, but Alec knows that his siblings wouldn't let her go (at least not without them). Alec's hand is twitching, ready to shoot when needed, and-

Then someone pops up behind the High Warlock, body language clear on killing the warlock, and Alec's shot them down within a second. He heads down the stairs two at a time, in full-on mission mode, and runs past the High Warlock in order to check on the body.

 _Circle rune,_ he thinks even as he hears the warlock’s slightly breathless, “And _who_ are _you_?”

Alec has to withhold a smile at the compliment (he so rarely gets them, it's always a pleasant surprise when he does) as he stands up and turns to face the warlock. “It's a Circle member-” he starts to say as he turns, but his words stutter to a stop as he locks eyes with Magnus Bane and his wrist vibrates. An instant later the glamour over the warlock’s eyes drops and he finds one of his own eyes and a glowing cat eye staring at him.

“Well,” Magnus Bane says, tone a bit too raw to be passed off as casual, “This is quite the surprise.”

Alec is so entranced, so fixed on the appearance of this gorgeous, powerful man who is somehow _his_ _cymar_ , that he can't look away when the girl speaks. “What's going on?” she asks, voice a bit shrill with annoyance, “I thought we were trying to get my memories back!”

“Clary,” Jace's possibly- _cymar_ says, “I think you shouldn't interrupt. Look- they're having a Disney moment.”

“I don't know what a Disney moment is,” Jace says, “But the mundie's right. You don't interrupt a _cymar_ meeting.”

Alec takes a step forward, legs feeling ten times clunkier than they normally do. “ _C_ _ymar_ ,” he says, mouth dry at the prospect, “That's right.” He extends his hand, letting the sleeve fall back a bit to expose his purple zeroes. “Alec Lightwood. I believe I'm your, um, _cymar_?”

Magnus takes his hand and a spark travels through him. “Magnus Bane,” he says, “High Warlock of Brooklyn, and you are one _gorgeous_ human being.”

Magnus winks and Alec feels his face flush. Izzy laughs. “Yep, definite _cymar_ moment.”

“You want to, um, go somewhere more private?” Alec asks, gesturing around a bit. He’s always been a private person (when you have a _cymar,_  and know that you’re gay, _and_ you’re a Shadowhunter, you kind of have to be private) and discussing this out in the open makes him anxious.

Magnus’s heterochromatic gaze travels up and down Alec and his expression turns sympathetic. “Yes, we can move this elsewhere.” He looks down at the Circle member’s body and his nose wrinkles with disgust. “And besides, we need to get away now. If they tracked me down and got this close, then it’s not safe.”

Alec nods, and Magnus opens up a portal.

“Um, my memories?” Alec hears Fray ask before they step into the portal.

“Later,” Izzy says firmly. “You have to give them this.”

Then they're in a loft, and Magnus is staring at Alex with a steady gaze. "So," he says, "Alexander Lightwood? As in the acting Head of the Institute?"

Alec nods. "Though all my friends call me Alec."

"Alexander suits you," Magnus says.

Alex likes the way Magnus says his name. "Good with me." He looks around the flat kind of awkwardly. "So, um, this is your place?"

Magnus nods, and finally moves. He saunter over to the counter. "Welcome to mi casa, stopover home for Downworlders of all shapes and sizes."

Alec's gaze catches on a group of framed photos on the living room wall. There's plenty of Magnus, but also plenty of a woman with blue skin, a man with horns protruding from his head, a Latino vampire, and an African-American woman in a leather jacket. The first three people seem to appear in a variety of clothes in a lot of the photos, some of which seem to be over a hundred years old, while the African-American woman appears often but always in modern-day clothing.

Alec notices that there is only one photo of an Asian vampire, a beautiful woman with a victorious smirk on her face. Something about the way the girl is looking at Magnus makes Alec's skin crawl- her gaze is possessive, almost hungry, like she wants to satiate her craving for blood with Magnus's flesh.

He turns back to look at Magnus, who is watching him almost apprehensively. "See anything you like?" Magnus jokes. Alec almost doesn't catch what is hidden beneath, but there os something in Magnus's face that is vulnerable, almost like he's afraid of making the wrong impression.

(Alex recognizes it, though, because he knows that look. He sees it every time he looks in the mirror.)

"Yeah," he says, and smiles. For once, it isn't hard for his lips to curve upward. He isn't pretending anymore- he can't wait to spend more time with Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, Alec's  _cymar._

Alec thinks this is going to be okay.


	5. only fools do what I do (only fools fall for you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Fools" by Troye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jimon. Originally this chapter was going to be Malec's first date, but I've been in more of an angst mood than a fluffy one lately. Hope y'all enjoy!

Simon keeps catching Jace looking at him like he's staring at a ghost, like Simon is something that haunts him.

One time, not even a day after the Shadowhunters rescue Simon from Camille the first time, he finally either gathers up enough courage (or gets frustrated enough, he can't tell) to ask Jace. “Why do you look at me like I'm a ghost?” he asks, and for a moment Jace seems unsettled before he rolls his eyes, leaving Simon to wonder if he just imagined it.

“Because you're as annoying as one,” Jace says, “Haunting my every step, following me around-"

Simon sighs. He's never gonna get a serious answer out of Jace.

-

It almost feels like a betrayal of Clary (and his own standards) to say so, but Jace Wayland is hot, okay?

He notices that Clary stares at Jace like he's a hunk of meat. Okay, that's not fair; she stares at Jace like he's an angel, the hero to solve all of her problems.

(And maybe Simon is guilty of this a bit too. Not looking at him like a savior, but as a little too perfect for Simon's own good.)

He knows that he has no chance with the tattooed prodigy of a shadowhunter. He knows that Jace, with his soft eyes and hard angles and bruised knuckles, belongs far more with someone like Clary than someone like Simon. Jace belongs with someone who can keep up with him, a graceful, violent Shadowhunter like himself.

Simon is none of those things. He is the nerd, the Mundie, the singer of an indie band and the leader of 13th Street's D & D group. He and Jace couldn't be more unfit for each other, and that's even _if_ Jace liked boys.

-

He is back in the Hotel Dumort.

"Poor darling boy," Camille coos, "I was wondering when you'd come back."

"You..." Simon stutters, "You're not mad?"

"On the contrary, I've been expecting you. You see... It's just my blood running through your veins. It can have some curious effects. But I assure you they're all harmless. In time they'll fade and you'll return to normal."

"Thank G-d," Simon swears, "Um... But I'm okay? I'm still human?" 

She laughs, and it's terrifying. "Well, of course you are. Or at least you would have been."

And then she lunges.

- 

Simon ends up on Camille’s couch, an _Encantato_ clouding his mind, and something in the back of his head starts to replace her features with Jace’s. If anyone is going to be kissing him, he wants it to be Jace.

His glasses fall off his face, tumbling to the ground. He barely notices it, mind gripped in the sensation of kissing Jace Wayland.

Then her fangs sink into his skin, and the world implodes. Dynamite courses through his skin as more and more blood vacuums out of his body and into her mouth. He is becoming more husk than person, more corpse than organism.

As his vision fades, Simon hopes that his Mama will pray an _El Malei Rachamim_ for him when he dies here, on this couch.

* * *

Staring at Simon is like staring at the sun, gravity and light pulled into one.

Being around Simon is like being around a black hole, because he’s pulling in everything Jace thought he could be and flipping it upside down.

Before Simon, Jace didn’t think he would like boys, at least like _that._

Before Simon, Jace had rarely had a crush on anyone that wasn’t conventionally attractive.

(Before Simon...what was life like before Simon, before Jace had this strange, incomplete _cymar_ who continued to show up in his life no matter what he did to drive him away?)

After Simon, Jace can’t decide whether he had never liked people like Simon or if he had just pushed away the idea of liking someone so... _Simon._

Simon Lewis is everything Jace is not. He is sweet, though his rambling and stubbornness can get annoying, and he gets so passionate about such nerdy things.

(Against his own will, though, Jace does notice one similarity between him and Simon:

Simon will move hell for his best friend.)

But as frustratingly wonderful as Simon is, he isn’t a Downworlder. No matter how beautiful he is, he can only ever be an imperfect _cymar._

A Shadowhunter and a Mundie- as disastrous as some Downworlder/Shadowhunter pairings are, a Mundie and a Shadowhunter would tear everything apart. Even letting Simon know about the Shadow World is a major risk, punishable by the Accords. To enter into a relationship? Jace would be DeRuned and cast out. Being a Shadowhunter is all he has.

(His father allowed no weakness such as romantic feelings to overtake Jace. Lust- sex- was okay. Attachment was not.

If Michael Wayland was alive today, he probably would have tried to burn the _cymar_ timers from Jace’s skin.)

So he sets aside his feelings. He ignores how his heart pounds whenever Simon enters the room, how every time Simon says something ignorant of the Shadow World but loaded with nerdy references he feels the urge to smile. He is a Shadowhunter. He is a Wayland and a Lightwood. He cannot allow feelings to interfere with his path as a Shadowhunter.

(If his training is harsher, if he spends more and more time throwing himself into training and fighting demons and trying to track down Clary’s mother, then that has nothing to do with his...annoyance of Simon.)

-

“You like him, don't you?” Izzy asks, eyebrow raised knowingly.

Jace stops pounding away at the punching bag for just a moment in order to say, tone bored, “Like who?”

“The Mundie,” Izzy says, “Your _cymar_.”

“He's a Mundie, Iz,” Jace says, “Mundies can't be _cymar._ ”

“Your timer went off.”

Jace slams his practice staff against the dummy before leveling her with a stony glare. “Shut the fuck up, Iz.”

She raises her arms in mock surrender. “Just come tell me when you admit your crush to yourself. Simon seems like a good guy.” Then she winks and leaves him, sauntering out of the training area.

Jace sighs and turns back to training. He can't let himself get distracted.

-

Then Raphael turns up with Simon’s dead body, and all of those carefully set aside feelings come roaring back. Because this isn’t just some mundie that happens to be the newbie Shadowhunter’s best friend- this is his _cymar_ , for whatever that may mean, and he only has one chance to live.

The pieces start to fall into place.

Either Simon emerges as a vamp, or he doesn’t live at all.


	6. I loved and I loved and I lost you (and it hurts like hell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Hurts Like Hell" by Fleurie.

“Do it,” Clary says, tone obvious that she has no idea what she's agreeing to. She doesn't realize the curse she's placing on her best friend. She's too new, too soft to the Shadow World.

(But Jace isn't sure that he wouldn't make the same decision.)

 

Jace carries Simon's body to the gravesite. He tries not to think about it. 

 

“All of that contradicts the first rule of being mundane,” Clary says.

“And what's that?” Jace asks, tone flippant but himself secretly dreading the answer.

“Love makes you stronger.”

Jace thinks about how he's been avoiding Simon lately because he is afraid of falling in love, of how he knows that their destiny is to fall in love and yet how he has been fleeing such a notion.

 

Simon emerges from the grave, fangs bared, and when he looks up Jace isn't even surprised when his wrist vibrates. He's pretty sure he's known it since the moment Raphael arrived at the Institute with Simon's body in his arms.

Raphael tosses a blood bag at him and Simon attacks it like a rabid animal.

“Once you're reborn, you emerge hungry,” Raphael announces, and while Clary buries her face into Jace's shoulder Jace doesn't look away. He feels like he owes this to Simon, to the _cymar_ he knows exists and to the boy that babbled his ear off, to witness this moment.

Blood splatters everywhere as the newborn vampire feasts.

Simon eventually looks up, mouth slathered with blood. His expression is satiated for a moment, but then it turns to one of horror.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Y-you died,” Clary stutters.

“What?” Simon asks, confused, and then his gaze drifts to the bag of blood. “What's this?” He picks it up, realizes what it is, and then flings it aside. “That's blood!” He feels at his mouth, and then flinches as he feels what must be his fangs. “Oh my g-” Simon starts to say, and his face twists when he can't. “Why can't I say G-g-?”

“God,” Raphael says, voice almost resigned, You’ll be able to in time.” Jace knows that someday Simon will become the same kind of creature. Deathless, changeless, forever stuck in the body of an eighteen-year-old. “There's a lot you need to learn.”

(And so will Jace, since they are truly _cymar_. Shadowhunters can gain the same lifespan as their _cymar_ , through ritual and bonding.)

Jace hasn’t cried in thirteen years, but the backs of his eyes are burning and he suspects this may be the onset of tears. Simon is stuck with him for eternity.

Simon tries to stutter his way through another ‘god,’ but fails. “Damnit!” He shouts, slamming his fists against the ground. He looks up at Jace and Clary. “Am I a vampire?” he asks, voice close to a sob.

“Yeah,” Clary breathes, because Jace can't summon up the voice to speak such a heartrending truth. Perhaps it is selfish to want not to be the person to shatter Simon's world.

Simon starts to panic. “T-tell me this isn't real,” he begs, and Jace can't. “Tell me this isn't happening!”

“I'm sorry,” Clary sobs, “I'm so sorry!”

“I'm a monster,” Simon moans, and Jace's heart breaks.

 _No, you're not,_ he wants to scream, _You're a wonderful, infuriating, beautiful person that I'm falling in love with._

“Please don't say that,” Clary pleads. “You're still the same, Simon.”

(No, he's not. Simon will never be the same again- he is no monster, but he _is_ different.)

Simon scrambles up. “I-I have to go,” he says, and then speeds off. Jace aches to follow him, but he doesn't.

Raphael sighs and grumbles, “I'll have to get him into the Hotel before sunrise.”

“No,” Jace says, and the vampire raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Jace holds out his wrist. “I mean you don't have to worry. Sunlight won't harm him.”

“Goddamnit, Shadowhunter,” Raphael growls, “You don't make this easy, do you?” Jace shakes his head, and he knows he looks miserable. The vampire sighs. “I’ll talk to him. Calm him down, introduce to the vampires, set him up at the Hotel.” Jace lets out a sigh of relief as Raphael continues. “Explain to him about the _cymar_.”

Jace freezes. “Do you have to-?”

“ _Si,_ ” Raphael says firmly, gaze unwavering. “Every Downworlder must learn as soon as they’re introduced to the Shadow World. Part of training procedures established by law. To not do it would be to disregard not only clan rules but the Accords as well.” He glances down at Jace’s red zeroes. “And besides, Shadowhunter, he’ll have questions soon enough. You said it yourself- he’s a Daylighter and all.”

Jace swallows and glances away.

“And, Shadowhunter?” Raphael asks, and Jace glances up. “ _Cymar_ are valued far more in the Downworlder world than the Shadowhunter world. We understand the bond that people can hold, when the fates declare them intertwined. Vampires, especially, revere the bond due to the physical advantage it gives the recipient.

Watch out for your fledgling, Shadowhunter. People will be in awe of him, but they will also be fearing him. A great many horrible things have happened to vampire _cymar_ in the past.”

Then Raphael takes off, leaving Jace behind with Clary, who is practically bubbling over with questions that he can’t answer.

* * *

Raphael collects Simon, and then after downloading the typical _you-are-a-vampire-this-is-what-you-can-eat-and-what-you-can’t-eat-no-not-too-many-mundies_ talk, he launches into the more important part: the _cymar_ talk.

“So,” Raphael says, “You are not the typical vampire, Simon.”

Simon snorts. “If you want to insult me, there are much more creative ways to do it.”

Raphael sighs. “It’s not an insult. Simon, you are a _cymar._ ”

“What the fuck is that? Some kind of vampire that has to _eat_ humans as well as drink their blood?”

Raphael shakes his head. “Simon, _cymar_ are commonly referred to as Soulmates by the greater Downworlder world, and vampire _cymar_ are called Daylighters. Every seven years, a force marks a certain number of Shadowhunters and an exact same number of Downworlders who are fated to meet within the next cycle. Each pair- a Downworlder and a Shadowhunter- are destined to complete each other in every way. It manifests differently for every race. Timers appear on the wrists of Shadowhunters, colored to reflect the race of their Downworlder counterpart. Vampires who meet their _cymar_ can walk in Daylight. A Warlock Mark changes to reflect their Shadowhunter’s physical appearance. Seelies develop a glimmer above the skin that reflects their Shadowhunter’s greatest ability. Over the last cycle, it appears that at least three pairings were established in the New York Area. Magnus Bane and Alexander Lightwood, Maia Roberts and whoever her Shadowhunter is, and, well, you’re that Lightwood’s _cymar._ ”

He can’t be Alec’s- Simon can vaguely remember Alec and Magnus mentioning something like that when they first met- but he knows he can’t be Jace’s, so… “Izzy?” Simon asks, brow furrowing. “I’m Izzy’s Soulmate? That’s…”

Raphael sighs. “Fucking _idiotas_ . Simon, you’re _Jace_ Wayland’s _cymar_.”

The air that Simon no longer breathes feels sucked out of his lungs. “You’re kidding me.”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“I’m Jace’s _soulmate_?” Raphael nods and Simon lets out a low whistle. “Damn.” A pause, and then, uncertain: “You sure?”

Raphael nods. “You’re probably gonna want to talk to Magnus and Maia Roberts about it. They’ve been dealing with being _cymar_ for the past year.”

"Should I go to the Pandemonium?" Simon asks. "I mean, I assume that "Magnus" is Magnus Bane."

Raphael nods. "I'll take you there. Then you can talk to them before you go to speak to that _c_ _ymar_ of yours."

-

“Um, hi?” Simon asks. He's only met Magnus Bane once before- the night the Warlock met Alec.

Magnus raises an eyebrow, though not unkindly. “Yes…” His gaze skates Simon. “Fledgling? You've been Turned since our last meeting.”

“I was told to talk to you about _cymar_ ,” he says, and Magnus straightens. A striking girl in a Falcon t-shirt and leather jacket’s eyes flare red, and Magnus waves a couple of ring-laden fingers in her direction. Her eyes fade back into a dark brown.

“Did Raphael send you?”

Simon nods. “I apparently met my _cymar_ when I was a Mundane. Then he was present at my...rebirth.” With the dirt still caked under his fingernails, he is still uncomfortable with the idea of being a vampire. He's trying not to think about the blood sucking, or the immortality, or, well, anything else related to being a vampire. It's  all a bit too much.

“Really?” the girl asks, “What Shadowhunter did you end up with?”

“Jace Wayland,” Simon says.

The girl snorts. “You're stuck with Blondie? Really? Good luck with that.”

“Hey,” Simon protests, “Jace may be cocky, and a bit broody, but he's a great guy!”

The girl grins. “Least you admit that he has flaws,” she says. “So, who are you?”

“Simon Lewis,” he says, and holds out a hand to shake. Not sure of the proper tradition with this girl, whoever she is. The girl nonetheless holds out a hand and shakes Simon's.

“Nice to meet you, Simon Lewis,” Magnus says, “I am Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, and this is Maia Roberts, member of the New York Wolf Pack, and I have the feeling that we will be hanging out a lot more now."

 

In the course of the hour he spends with Maia Roberts and Magnus Bane, Simon learns a number of things. He learns about the personalities of Maia and Magnus, learns how both of them are closet nerds. He learns that the three of them will make good friends, not just because they are _cymar_ but also because their personalities blend well.

But, of course, the most important informantion is the knowledge of the age ceremony. _Cymar_ have an option to complete a ritual that will bind their life forces to one of the two participants- the mortal life of the Shadowhunter, or the immortal (not invulnerable, mind you) life of the Downworlder. The prospect of forever is a heady one, especially when Simon realizes that he may be spending it with Jace.

After an hour, though, he says goodbye and leaves, promising to hang out again later. He has someone he needs to see.

 

 

He finds his way back to the graveyard, where (somewhat creepily, but Jace has always seemed kind of emo so that's not too unexpected), Jace is practicing his swordwork on a tree. Clary is gone, and Simon is kind of glad. He loves his best friend, but this is really not the kind of situation where he wants her to be around.

“So,” Simon says, tone soft, “You’re my soulmate.”

“That’s one term for it,” Jace says, turning to face Simon. 

“It’s the one Magnus and Raphael used.”

“Then I guess it works.”

Simon quirks an eyebrow. “How will I _ever_ survive having _you_ as a soulmate?”

Jace shrugs, sheathing his blade. “Guess you’ll just have to learn to deal with it.”

Simon mock-sighs. “What a _tragedy._ ”

“Oh, shut it, Lewis,” Jace says, nudging him in the arm, but Jace is _smiling_  for the first time since Simon's met him _._ Simon wants to kiss the expression, to cement that look of happy surprise.

Jace beats him to the punch, though.

“Can I,” and for the first time in his life, Jace stumbles over his words. “Can I kiss you?”

Simon shakes his head, and Jace’s heart plummets. _Of course not-_

“You can after the first date, though.”

Jace’s heart skips. “Date?”

Simon nods. “That _is_ what you do when you like someone, right?” Jace nods. "Then, you crazy blond Shadowhunter, that's what we'll do."

"You crazy Mundie," Jace returns, and Simon sighs.

"Vampire, now. I'm your _cymar_ \- you should remember that."

"Me dating a vamp? What would mother say?"

"Since when have you cared about what your mother says?"


End file.
